


toss a cat to your healer

by GlassRose



Series: Chireaskier series [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, cat!Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 06:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30118728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassRose/pseuds/GlassRose
Summary: Chireadan was forced out of Rinde after Yennefer, Geralt, and Jaskier waltzed in to ruin his entire life. He left the militia and found a town where he could serve as a healer, though he lived on the outskirts and found it hard to form relationships with the locals. He had resigned himself to a decade or two of friendless boredom when suddenly a dramatic silver cat burst into his life and started making demands.And licking his face. And purring in his lap. And really, Chireadan hadn't had such focused attention from anyone in years. What's a lonely elf to do?
Relationships: Chireadan/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Chireaskier series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216505
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier glared at his half-empty bottle of Est Est. "There's...there's got to be someone out there. For me. Who will be good to me. Who doesn't call me annoying. Who fuckin'...who appreciates me. Who wouldn't. I am a fuckin' catch. I am. I just. I just wanna find them. I don't wanna waste another two goddamn decades chasing after an asshole who's not even nice to me. I'm nice. I deserve nice. I do. Don't I? I want someone nice. Just wanna find that someone."

"Well," the woman said, her voice somehow ringing bell-clear through his clouded mind, "I feel bad about the last time we met, so whatever you want, sweetheart. Come with me."

He stumbled to his feet, half-watching himself follow her outside and into a sunflower field. The stalks shuddered around them and grew up, up, up, until he was on all fours in a massive cathedral forest of sunflowers. He tried to speak but he was too drunk, or something, and a portal opened in front of him. He crawled through, helpless to stop himself, and the world went black.

Ghelibol wasn't home, and Chireadan wasn't likely to build a real home any time soon, but for now it was his place of residence. He lived in a tent outside the main village, and the people came to him for healing often enough to keep him fed and clothed. He still had the pony and cart he'd bought with the money the witcher's bard had given him in some kind of apology for the mess they'd all made of his life during the whole djinn incident, but she didn't have much work to do now that he was somewhat settled.

It was a quiet life, outside the military. Nothing very exciting happened these days.

Until one morning when he woke up to something hitting his face. He opened his eyes to find a cat headbutting him. It was a well-groomed, clean and sleek silver tabby with white socks and blue eyes, on the larger side of average but nothing especially unusual. "What?" he mumbled at it. "After my catmint supply?"

It meowed loudly, pawing at him.

"Oh dear, I'm not a healer for animals, I'm afraid."

It hissed.

"Well, I can try. What's wrong?"

The cat rolled over and meowed. A boy, Chireadan noted.

"All right, kitty, let me take a look." He reached down and, wary of the claws, examined the cat. It tensed but didn't swipe. It was completely unharmed, as far as he could tell. As soon as he released him, the cat leaped up and bit at Chireadan's trousers, tugging hard. "Stop it," Chireadan ordered him. "I don't know what you want. I haven't got anything for a cat to eat."

The cat growled and released the pants, then shook his head from side to side. Then he sat up on his hind legs and awkwardly pawed at his chest.

"You?"

"Mew!"

"You what?"

"Meow!"

"You're a strange cat," Chireadan said, and opened his crate of food to find breakfast. The cat huffed and stalked out of the tent. "Well, it was nice to meet you," he called after him.

He ate an aging apple for breakfast. Hmm. Might be time to leave Ghelibol. He could get more business south of here. It wasn't like he had friends.

Damn. He wanted friends. He wanted elf friends. Humans and halflings would be good too, but it might be easier to connect with other Aen Seidhe. (He'd met an Aen Elle once. He was not excited to repeat the experience.)

The cat raced back into the tent with a flower in his jaws. He deposited the flower at Chireadan's feet and pawed at his boots. Chireadan picked up the flower. "Oh, you can't eat that, kitty," he said. "Buttercups are poisonous."

The cat again rose up and pawed at his own chest. What the hell was wrong with this animal? Was a sorcerer messing with him?

"You?"

"Meow."

"You...flower? Buttercup? Your name is Buttercup?"

"Mrow!"

A cat that could understand language? There was magic at play here. "Right. Er. You're not really a cat, are you?"

"Mew!" Buttercup purred.

"You're an elf or a human or something?"

_ Purr. _ Buttercup rubbed against Chireadan's ankles.

"Well, what am I supposed to do about this?"

Buttercup considered this, looking around the tent. He rose up and hissed, claws out, swiping, and then hopped onto the potion table and nosed at the one purple potion on it.

"Er...what?"

Buttercup repeated his charade, pushing the purple potion forward.

"Angry...fighting...potion? Purple? Wait. Yennefer?"

"Mrow!"

"You want me to find Yennefer? I don't know where she is."

Growl.

"How do you know her, anyway?"

Buttercup sized up Chireadan and suddenly leaped from the table onto him. Chireadan was pretty sure he was trying to land on his shoulder, but misjudged the distance and smacked into his chest. He caught the cat--cat-shaped person--and Buttercup climbed up, put a paw on his shoulder, and stared into his eyes.

"I don't understand, I'm sorry."

Buttercup licked his cheek.

"You kissed her?"

Instantly, all his fur puffed up and he growled fiercely.

"You didn't kiss her. You hate her." Headbutt. "You kissed me? No, I don't think so." Headbutt again. "You know me?"

_ Purr, _ and another lick on the cheek.

"I don't think I know who you are. I don't think I know any Buttercups. Are you an elf or human? Er, let me try again. Elf?"

Buttercup cocked his head a little and looked away.

"Human?"

A soft meow.

"Are you a mage yourself?"

Huff.

"Are you from Rinde?"

He looked away.

"Did we meet there?"

"Mrow."

"This is maddening. All right. We'll go find a mage, somehow."

Buttercup purred fiercely and licked Chireadan's face again. 

"What happened to you?" Chireadan asked, petting him.

The cat dropped down from his shoulder and tucked his head under Chireadan's chin.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Buttercup purred.

"Right, well, there isn't a mage here, so we'll have to go to another town."

"Mrow?"

"That's all right. I was looking to move on anyway." Maybe. It didn't hurt to have the excuse of a friend in need. Whoever that friend might be.

"Mew."

"Right then, that's settled." Chireadan set Buttercup down and rolled up his bedroll. "Feel free to help," he told the cat as he started packing his things. Buttercup watched him for a moment, and then jumped onto the potions table and very deliberately knocked the purple potion off of it. "I probably should have expected that," Chireadan acknowledged. Buttercup knocked two more potions off. "All right, that's enough!"

The cat sniffed.

"I'm packing up my life for you. You could be nicer," Chireadan said lightly, but he regretted it instantly as Buttercup slunk off the table and hid behind a box. "Oh, kitty, I mean, whoever you are. I'm not angry. You're very funny." Despite that, Buttercup did not come out until Chireadan took the box he was hiding behind. It took only an hour to pack up everything and hitch Jola to the cart. Buttercup climbed in and made a nest in the softer things on the cart. Chireadan gave his head a scritch before taking Jola's lead. "Wait," he said. "Is that odd? Should I stop?"

Buttercup purred.

"Ah, all right then." That was relatable. If he'd been turned into a cat, he probably would take advantage of the situation to be touched affectionately too. It had been long enough since he'd had a real friend. "Right, er, I don't know where to go. South? Just take the road and hope we find one?"

Buttercup didn't answer, so Chireadan decided to head south and ask along the way. Redania wasn't the best place to find mages, but surely there was one somewhere. Mages didn't tend to listen to kings or mayors.

After a few hours, Buttercup hopped down from the cart and trotted up to Chireadan, pawing at his leg. "Oh, er, all right." The elf picked up the cat, who climbed up to his shoulders and settled around them like a heavy scarf. But the purring was nice, and he didn't mind having a friend, even if that friend was a cat, even if he genuinely didn't know who said friend might be. "How did we meet?" he asked Buttercup presently.

The cat coughed.

"Right, you can't really answer."

He coughed again.

"Are you choking?"

Buttercup sniffed and meowed.

"Well then." He scratched Buttercup's head and the cat--the man, there was a man in there somewhere--leaned into it.

"We're not friends, are we?"

No answer.

"We've met, but not friends."

"Mrow."

"I see." They walked through the day, passing through one village with no news of a mage, and made camp at sunset. Chireadan shot a rabbit and cooked it over the fire, feeding bits of roast meat to Buttercup. The cat slept in the cart at first, but in the morning, Chireadan woke with a warm body sleeping against his back.

"This will be fun when you change back," Chireadan said, stroking Buttercup's shoulders. "I hope you're not embarrassed."

Buttercup's purring stopped abruptly, and he looked reproachfully at Chireadan.

"I won't mock you, I swear. I think. Unless you're my bro--but you can't be, you said you were human. You have very soft fur, you know."

Buttercup sat up proudly and licked Chireadan's hand, then ducked his head. Chireadan scratched behind his ears. "Cat instincts getting the better of you?"

The cat growled but pushed his head against the scritching.

"We'll get you better. It'll be all right." He petted Buttercup a little longer and then said, "Let's get a move on. The sooner we find a mage, the sooner we can get your body back."

Buttercup climbed back up on the cart.

"No exercise for you today, hmm?" Chireadan teased, and Buttercup just stared and licked his paw.

The mages had disappeared. Three days they'd traveled, stopping in every village for supplies (or work; there were a few sick folks) and to ask about mages. No one had any news. Chireadan didn't want to go to Novigrad, but Roggeven was the next stop before it. Buttercup was surprisingly excellent company for all that he couldn't say anything but various meows and hisses. "When we get you back to normal," Chireadan said, roasting a game bird by the fire while Buttercup prowled around the campsite, "I might get a real cat."

Buttercup chirped, questioning.

"Oh, it's a compliment. I've enjoyed your company. I know, I know. You're not a cat, and real cats act differently. But...you're easy to talk to, and you're warm and you have soft fur and I've been...I've been lonely," he admitted. Buttercup sprang up, raced over to him, and climbed into his lap, purring. "You're sweet," Chireadan said, petting him. "I'll miss you."

Buttercup chirped again.

"I'm sure you have your own life. Besides, humans don't usually...well. I've tried, you know. I tried to assimilate, but humans, they notice the ears. And they believe a lot of lies. I don't always get the chance to prove myself."

The quail was done, so Chireadan pulled it off the fire and shared it with Buttercup. "That damn song didn't exactly help," he added, pulling meat from the bone. "I wish…" He sighed. "Should I just go join the Scoia'tael?"

Buttercup rose up and licked Chireadan's face.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

He licked again.

"Does that mean you're a human and you respect me?"

"Mrow."

"Well, thank you."

_ Purr. _

"Does that mean we'll be best friends when you're better?"

"Meow."

"Don't make promises, Buttercup. We weren't friends before." The cat let out a mournful mew and Chireadan's heart melted. "All right. All right. I'd like to have a friend, even one who doesn't sit in my lap."

Buttercup headbutted him and he laughed. "Well, I suppose you can still sit in my lap but I can't promise I'll still pet you." The cat purred more fiercely and Chireadan scratched his head. "You're fun." He was fun. He was already the best friend Chireadan had had in years, and he couldn't even talk. "Are you doing all right in there? I imagine it's somewhat unsettling."

Buttercup huffed but kept purring.

"Did this just happen or did someone do this to you?"

"Mrow."

"Someone did this?"

"Mrow."

"So, a mage. Not--not Yennefer, right?"

No reply, which by now they'd agreed meant no.

"But someone. Do you know why?"

Buttercup was quiet.

"Strange."

They finished the bird, and Buttercup crawled under the blanket with Chireadan, snuggling against his chest. It was a little strange, still, knowing that Buttercup wasn't really a cat, but it was warm and soft and nice, and frankly, Chireadan wasn't complaining. He drifted off to sleep as the fire died down.

The first thing Chireadan noticed upon waking was the kick in the head. The second thing he noticed was Buttercup's absence. Jola was stamping her hooves and snuffling in fear at the two human men standing over him. They weren't armed, but Chireadan's sword was on the cart, and the men were between him and it. "Ow," he said.

"You're a long way from the Edge of the World, elf," the brown-haired one said.

Chireadan sat up. "I'm from Rinde."

"Didn't that witcher kill all your people?"

"That's what the song says," the bald man added.

"It doesn't say that," Chireadan grumbled, getting up. "What do you want?"

The bald man started rifling through the cart.

"There's nothing there you'll want. It's just alchemy ingredients and healer's supplies."

"And a sword, you lying rat!" the bald man exclaimed, pulling out the sword.

"Are you  _ robbing _ me?" Chireadan asked. It wasn't that he'd never been held up before, but he was still barely awake, he was on a quest to turn a cat back into a man, and the whole thing was just so rude and irritating that he wasn't handling it well.

"Call it payback for what your kind did to ours," the brown-haired man said as the bald man pointed the sword at Chireadan.

Chireadan just blinked at them and said, "Fuck."

Then, something happened that none of them expected. Buttercup came flying out of the underbrush, clawed his way up the bald man's body, and attached himself to his head, yowling, scratching, and biting.

"Mother of--get this thing off me!"

"Leave us alone and I'll call him off," Chireadan said quickly. "Put down the sword."

"Fuck you, squirrel!" the man snarled, dropping the sword and  _ ripping _ Buttercup off his head. Chireadan dove for the sword and grabbed it just as the bald man hurled Buttercup into a tree. The cat squeaked and fell to the ground, silent.

"No!" Chireadan yelled, but the men were advancing, so he pointed his sword at them. "I have military training and more years on you. Your chances are poor. Get away from us." They looked uncertain, and Buttercup could be dying, so he screamed instead. "Go while I still let you leave!"

They looked at each other, blood dripping from the bald man's scalp, and hurried off. Chireadan let out a breath and ran to Buttercup's limp form. "Shit, shit, shit, talk to me, come on." He ran his hands over the cat, feeling for broken bones. Buttercup started purring weakly. "Oh, thank the gods, sweetheart, I mean, cat, I mean, you. You scared me. Are you all right?"

Buttercup let out a weak meow.

"Can you move? Can you walk? Are your organs damaged? You wouldn't know. Are you in pain?"

"Row."

"Right, of course you are." There were no apparent fractures, to Chireadan's relief. "Er, but could you walk, or is it too much?"

Buttercup huffed and slowly got to his feet, whining.

"That was dangerous! Why did you do that? You remember you're a small housecat, don't you?"

Buttercup meowed and nuzzled Chireadan's knee.

"Right," Chireadan said quietly. "You're my friend too." He carefully lifted the cat and carried him to the cart. "Thank you," he added, making a cat nest with his bedroll and blanket. "For defending me." He kissed the top of Buttercup's head. It was an almost automatic act, not meaning what it should. Chireadan had once befriended a barn cat and kissed its head every now and then. He realized kissing Buttercup was not the same after he'd done it, but Buttercup just purred.

They needed to get moving, but Jola was calm enough now that the men were gone, and Chireadan was still shaking. He sat with Buttercup for a while until they both calmed down, then ate a bite of bread from his supplies, and hitched Jola to the cart.

Evening brought them to Roggeven, and Chireadan decided to ask in a tavern for news about mages. An elf girl stopped him on the street and said she could handle the horse and cart, and the innkeeper was a good fellow. Funny way of advertising, but that was helpful, and he was hungry, so Chireadan put Buttercup on his shoulders and went inside. The innkeeper was indeed pleasant, and when Chireadan asked if he knew where to find a mage, he shook his head. "Haven't seen one of their kind in some time. They've left. Can't say where. Do you need one?"

"I do, but I--Buttercup!"

Buttercup had flung himself from his perch to the bar counter and raced along it to skid to a halt in front of a woman in a brown dress. "Hello, kitty cat," she said cheerfully.

Chireadan caught up. "Buttercup, what are you doing?"

The cat was growling, puffing up. The woman grinned wider. "Let's take a walk," she said. Something about her set Chireadan on edge, but he picked up Buttercup and followed her outside.

"I really don't know what you're fussed about,  _ Buttercup_," she said as they walked around the tavern. "I gave you exactly what you wanted, which I didn't have to do. As an apology for the last time we met." 

Buttercup chirped questioningly.

She reached out and touched his throat as he growled. "I was not myself, you understand. Bygones, I hope."

"Are you saying," Chireadan tried, backing away so she couldn't reach Buttercup. "Are you saying you're the one who turned him into a cat?"

"Oh, naturally. And isn't he just the prettiest kitty? I do so adore cats."

"You're a mage, then."

"No, my dear healer, I am not. Mages are dangerous, obsessive beings with a lust for power. Control, control, control. Vile beasts, the lot of them."

This woman was insane. "Fine, you're not a mage. Change him back anyway."

"Oh, no. He told me what he wanted, and I've given him that. But don't worry. He'll change back when it's time."

"What do you mean--when will that be?"

She shrugged. "That's up to him."

Buttercup growled at her and swiped, though he was much too far away to reach.

"Oh, yes, my dear, I haven't forgotten. You'll get your things back. Now, be a dear and see it through. You'll get your old body back when you get what you asked for."

"See what through?" Chireadan demanded. "What did he ask for?"

The woman smiled and wandered around the corner of the tavern. Chireadan followed, but as he came around the corner, she was gone. "What in the...what?"

Buttercup huffed.

"I agree."

"Mrow."

"Let's get a room."

"Mrow!"

Chireadan ate dinner and begged some extra roasted chicken for Buttercup. Their room was sparse, but the bed looked clean and soft enough.

"I have to know who you are," Chireadan said, watching Buttercup lick his paws. The cat perked up. "Right, let's try again. We met in Rinde."

"Meow."

"You know Yennefer but you don't like her. That doesn't narrow it down."

"Meow."

"Why did we meet?"

Buttercup sat up and coughed.

"Why do you cough every time I ask--" He paused. The coughing. The woman touching Buttercup's throat. His name, his fucking  _ name_. "Oh, _ Buttercup. _ Well, I am incredibly slow."

"Mew?"

"You're the bard, aren't you? Jaskier?"

"Meow!"

Unbelievable. Jaskier the fucking "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher" bard had been sleeping with him, sitting in his lap, licking his face. Jaskier, the only human besides Yen that Chireadan had ever looked twice at, in spite of the outrageous slander he'd spread against Filavandrel. Jaskier the dramatic jackass in love with Geralt of Rivia. Jaskier, the other poor sod left behind when Geralt and Yennefer found each other. Jaskier, who had recklessly risked his little cat body to save Chireadan from highwaymen. Jaskier, who had given him a purse full of (possibly stolen) coin even though, as far as Chireadan could tell, he bore very little blame for the entire incident. If anything, Yennefer owed him. "That was a djinn," he said, realizing. "You got cursed by a djinn again! Only this time, of its own volition."

"Mrow."

"Why? What did you ask for?"

Jaskier shook his head.

"You don't know?"

"Meow."

Chireadan crossed his arms. "How are we supposed to figure out how to break this curse if you don't even remember why you were cursed in the first place?"

Jaskier dropped his head, his shoulder blades rising as he slinked under the bed.

"No, come out. I'm not mad at you, I just...we can't go on like this."

No response.

"Or...I suppose we can. I just don't want you to be trapped in a cat's body, that's it."

Jaskier didn't come out. Chireadan lay down on the bed and hung off the side so he could look underneath. Two eyes glinted in the dark. "I'm not going to leave you, Jaskier. You're my friend."

He didn't move, so Chireadan rolled over and lay on the bed, thinking. Now that he really knew who the cat was, it was probably weird to appreciate the snuggles and the purring and the face licking. On the other hand, all cats who snuggled and purred and licked faces were adorable and perfect, and Chireadan adored cats. And...he shamefully admitted to himself that he wouldn't mind human-shaped Jaskier snuggling with him and licking his face. It'd been several years since they'd met and shortly after parted ways, and Chireadan was too hooked on Yennefer to make the time to care about the fact that he was attracted to another human. (The attraction to men wasn't surprising--that was old news.) Still, he would be lying if he said Jaskier's face and hands had never featured in a fantasy. He hadn't sex in well over a decade.

Probably, though, it was inappropriate to be pondering his attraction to a man who currently looked like a housecat, when, regardless of Jaskier's reputation of being...unrestrained, he likely just wanted a friend to help him with his problem.

There was a dark part of Chireadan that wanted to take advantage of Jaskier's inability to talk. To make him understand that insulting elves wasn't fair. That they weren't a horde of monsters. That Filavandrel was just trying to protect his own. That humans were the aggressors.

He didn't. Jaskier might never come back out. "There's room for two up here, you know." No response, again, so Chireadan undressed and pulled the covers over himself. "I'll miss you, then." He tried to sleep, but sleep was out of reach. He'd upset Jaskier and it was eating at him. "We could try to find my family," he said. "I'm not a mage myself; I've never learned to use my magic, but some elves know older things than human mages. I haven't seen them in decades, but they might know where to direct us."

Still nothing from Jaskier.

"Well, we can talk about it in the morning. I wish you'd come out. We can still...I knew you were a person before, we can still sleep together. Can't we? Because I can't sleep." He sighed. "I've been fairly alone for a long time now, and then you came along and now I'm not. I don't want to go back to that. I know it's only been a few days, but...don't mind me. I'll manage my own problems. I'm sorry." He lay back and tried to fall asleep, but it only came when Jaskier finally crawled under the blanket with him. His purring was soothing, and Chireadan drifted off.

In the morning, Chireadan found a set of expensive red clothes, a bag with a half-full coin purse and some other supplies, and a lute on his cart. "I've been thinking," he said, pulling a map out of his own possessions. "She said you could break the curse when you get what you want. So I think you should decide where we go next." He spread it out. Jaskier examined it for a bit and then nosed at a spot along the coast. Gors Velen, the coastal city.

"Off we go, then. Are you riding in the cart?"

Jaskier rose up and nuzzled Chireadan's cheek, then hesitated before licking it, just once. Chireadan scratched his head, and Jaskier hopped up on his shoulders.

"Your cat is so pretty," the stable girl said as she helped Chireadan hitch Jola to the cart. "Can I pet him?"

"That's up to him. Buttercup?"

Jaskier meowed, so Chireadan bent down a little to let the girl reach. "Aren't you just the sweetest, prettiest kitty," she said, petting his cheeks.

"Careful," Chireadan said.

"Does he bite?"

"No, but he might get a big head."

Jaskier headbutted Chireadan, who laughed and scratched his back.

"How do you get him to ride on your shoulders? Magic?"

"No," Chireadan said as Jaskier licked his nose. "He just likes me, I think."

"Mrow."

"We're friends."

She looked sad. "Wish I had a friend like that."

"Are you alone?"

"Well, Mr. Bron's good to me. My parents are gone."

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling somehow guilty that he was leaving this near stranger behind. "It's not easy being alone among humans. But sometimes they're all right. Maybe you can make friends with them."

She considered this, and then said, "I think I just want a kitten."

Jaskier chirped, and Chireadan nodded. "I think you would be wonderful at taking care of a kitten."

"You don't know me," she said, and Jaskier sneezed. Or coughed. Maybe it was meant to be a laugh?

"I suppose not," Chireadan acknowledged. "I was being friendly."

She finished helping Jola get hitched and led her out of the barn. "Well, good luck. Goodbye, Buttercup."

"Meow!"

She waved, and they headed out, traveling through the city. A few human guards gave Chireadan some looks, but he had his sword and bow in the cart, and Jaskier hissed at anyone who approached.

"It's nice having a bodyguard," Chireadan commented as they left the city and Jaskier settled a bit, relaxing and licking his face. "Are you going to keep doing that once you've got your body back?"

Jaskier replied by licking him again.

"Well, I won't stop you. So, about that song of yours. Think you'll ever write something that doesn't make elves look like a faceless horde of inhuman beasts?"

Jaskier's claws dug into his shoulder just a tiny bit.

"I know, how unfair of me, while you're a captive audience."

Jaskier nuzzled him.

"Are you saying you'll talk about it when you can?"

"Meow."

"That's nice to hear. I don't suppose you're also saying that in fact you love us and think we're beautiful and perfect?"

He purred and licked Chireadan's face again.

"I suppose you think you're so charming you can get away with anything."

"Mrow."

"You're right."

_ Purr. _

"Mostly," Chireadan added, leaning into the nuzzling. "You're ridiculous."

They made camp outside Novigrad. Chireadan didn't feel like dealing with the city and didn't want to pay for a room at a tavern that might not welcome him. After dinner, Jaskier settled next to him and huffed a few times before Chireadan said, "You can sit in my lap if you want. We've been slow to work this out, but I think we can. You recognized the djinn, so you saw her. What did you say to her?"

Jaskier looked up at him, his kitty face contorted into an impressively skeptical expression. Then he rolled over, stuck out his tongue, and closed his eyes.

"You were asleep?"

Jaskier lifted his head, huffed, stood up, and walked around in front of Chireadan, swaying wildly.

"You were drunk!"

"Meow."

"You don't remember what you said to her when you were drunk?"

"Mrow."

"Then why were you drinking?"

A low growl.

"You were angry?"

"Reow."

"At...someone? A lover?" No answer. "An enemy." No answer. "A friend?"

A very sad, very put-upon, "Mew."

"Your witcher?"

Jaskier growled again.

"He hurt you?"

"Mew."

"I'm sorry." Chireadan's fingers itched to pet the cat, but he wasn't sure if Jaskier would take it as condescension. "Did he...did he reject you?"

Jaskier didn't reply, but he climbed into Chireadan's lap. That seemed enough of a cue, so Chireadan petted him, slowly stroking the sleek silver fur until Jaskier purred softly.

"Sometimes I think there's people like them," Chireadan said, not sure whether he was about to say anything Jaskier wanted to hear, "and then there's people like us. They're too caught up in their own great, world-ending matters. They can't see us, not really. Or they can but they won't, I don't know. And all we can do is watch." He thought of Yennefer, of her purple eyes and her rage and her pain and magnificent power. But over the last six years, his feelings for her had faded to almost nothing. These days he wanted something real. His dreams of love, when he let himself dream of it, were big but real. He just wanted a person, a man or a woman or anyone else, really, to be good and sweet to him, to make him feel warm and loved. To warm him at night and stand by his side. To make his heart beat faster, yes, but also to accept his love and support and help. To listen to him and be listened to in turn.

Chireadan looked down at the man in his lap. All of that, and maybe if said person had a sweet voice and a penchant for poetry? That could only be a welcome addition.

"We don't have to forget them or ignore them," he continued. "I only mean that if we wait for them to love us the way we...we might be disappointed. But I suppose I am telling you nothing you don't already know. I wish you could talk, Jaskier. It doesn't seem fair these things keep happening to you."  _ I wish your arms were around me. I wish you were singing to me. I wish I could know if you could feel the same for me. I wish I weren't so sad and lonely that I'm falling for a cat. And a human. _ "And you have such beautiful eyes," he added, like the sad sop he was. "Normally, I mean. Well, and now, but…"

Jaskier perked up, put his paws on Chireadan's shoulder, and licked his cheek.

"I know, I know. I'm sure everyone else falls in love with you too." Right. That might have been a bit much. Chireadan was well out of practice. But Jaskier didn't seem to mind. He pressed his furry forehead against the elf's. "Don't mind me," Chireadan said. "You're sweet."

Jaskier purred fiercely, and Chireadan's eyes burned. If this man left him once he was fixed, he was definitely going to need to get a real cat.

Gods, what was wrong with him that he'd packed up everything the moment the cat had run into his tent? Devilishly charming no matter what he looked like, really. After a few days of feline affection, Chireadan was hooked. Couldn't go back to being alone. And knowing now who he was, Chireadan wanted him, wanted the real one, the human one, in his arms, in his lap,  _ talking_, just fucking talking to him. 

Jaskier sank back into his lap, still purring. "You're so sweet," Chireadan murmured. "I--" He stopped himself. It wasn't fair to Jaskier, who was depending on him for help. Just because Jaskier had a reputation for being free and open with his love didn't mean Chireadan could expect to be wanted. He could ask later. Later, when Jaskier could fully answer.

Later, when Jaskier could sing to him or something.

Oh no.

Oh, no, he was  _ besotted. _ Melitele's tits, he was completely fucked.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Jaskier mewed and stretched and licked Chireadan's hand, and he didn't know if it was assurance or affection or just cat instincts, but it was nice. It was nice, and it was nice when they cuddled under the blankets and fell asleep.

They couldn't skirt Novigrad, of course, but they passed through with minimal incident, bought some food, and headed southwest, crossing through Oxenfurt, over the river and making their way slowly toward the coast. Jaskier opted to ride in the cart, and Chireadan didn't say anything. He'd said too damn much last night.

The road was quiet enough. They passed a few merchants, one noble, and some hunters. They made camp again as the sun set, and as Chireadan returned to camp with two wild pigeons, he caught Jaskier looking distinctly guilty. At least, he thought so, but a man in a cat's body might not emote so obviously, so he ignored it and started plucking the pigeons.

Then Jaskier went  _ nuts_, attacking every single feather, rolling on his back and clawing at the biggest one violently, then leaping up to pounce on the next. 

"Are you having fun?" Chireadan asked, a little concerned.

Jaskier lunged for him and wrapped himself around the elf's boot, biting and clawing at the leather.

"Ow? What are you doing?"

Jaskier flung himself to the ground, and Chireadan looked over at the cart, where his bag of supplies had clearly been raided. "You got into my catmint?"

The cat growled but tried ineffectively to hide in the grass, purring so loud Chireadan could hear him from across the firepit. Chireadan threw another feather at him and Jaskier jumped for it.

The elf started laughing. "You got into my catmint, oh gods, Jaskier. I'm--I--" He doubled over, wheezing. "What did I do before you?" he gasped, tears leaking from his eyes. Jaskier growled until Chireadan threw another feather to him and he flew into the air to catch it. They played, Chireadan throwing feathers and Jaskier diving for them until at last the pigeons were plucked, and he set them to roast on the fire. By the time they were cooked, Jaskier was worn out and flopped on his back in Chireadan's lap, stretched out as the elf fed him bits of bird meat.

"Are you always this fun when you're on something?"

The cat let out a long, sleepy mrow and let Chireadan rub his belly. His purring was amusingly erratic when they went to bed, but he tucked up against Chireadan and gave him a goodnight cheek lick before sleeping.

Warm and sleepy, Chireadan opened his eyes in a fog, unwilling to get up or release the man in his arms. A cool breeze blew across his forehead, and he hid under the covers, pressing his face between the man's shoulder blades for warmth and drifting away.

He woke up suddenly, sun shining through a real mist, and a still cat-shaped Jaskier curled up against him.

"Oh," he muttered. "'s a dream." He crawled out from under the covers in spite of Jaskier's mews of protest and nibbled some fruit and bread. "Think we'll make it to Gors Velen today," he said, yawning.

"Mrah," Jaskier said.

"Hungover?"

"Mrow?"

"Mrow, indeed. No more catmint stealing, if you please. I do use it, you know."

Jaskier whined as Chireadan rolled up the bedding and put it away.

"Don't be silly," Chireadan said, yawning, as he set Jaskier in the cart. He petted Jola and hitched her. "You wanted to go to Gors Velen, so we're going."

"Meow."

"Cart or shoulders?" Chireadan asked, leaning over the cart. Jaskier rose up and licked his nose, but then he settled back in the cart. "Suit yourself."

They reached the outskirts of Gors Velen in late afternoon and stabled Jola at a small tavern outside the main city. Jaskier tugged at Chireadan's trousers and led him to the beach. The sun turned the water orange and pink as it set. Jaskier ran along the sand, leaping around the tidal pools, and in the twilight, he ran back to Chireadan and hopped up into his arms.

"This is nice," Chireadan murmured. "I haven't been to the coast in a long time. I don't know what you wanted to find here, but I like being here with you."

Jaskier purred fiercely and climbed up with his paws on Chireadan's shoulder, nuzzling his neck.

"I think--" Chireadan started, and then let out an  _ oof _ as his knees buckled under the weight of the surprisingly muscular, full-grown man in his arms. In his expensive clothes, and with the way he handled himself, Jaskier somehow managed to look smaller, look like a soft, slender artist, but with no space or fabric between them now, Chireadan could see how much he styled himself not to look like the athletic, broad-shouldered, and rather furry human he was.

"Hello there," Jaskier said, clinging to Chireadan's shoulders. "Oh, gods, I can talk. My voice. My voice!" He sang a scale, laughed in delight, and pressed a joyful kiss to Chireadan's lips, which he followed helplessly when Jaskier pulled away. As a cat, the man was annoyingly charming. As a human, he nearly had Chireadan ready to follow him anywhere if they could kiss again. "Here, darling, let me down," Jaskier said as soon as he drew away, and swung his legs down. "And I'm naked, shit. Have I got my voice back and you lost yours?"

Gods, he was beautiful, with miles of creamy pale skin and dark hair on his chest, bright blue eyes sparkling, padded muscle showing an active life but a well-fed one. Chireadan tore his eyes away and took off his shirt. "No, I can talk. Wear this until we can get back to the cart," he said, passing it to Jaskier.

"Didn't think you'd want me to be covering up," Jaskier said with a wink as he tied it around his waist.

Heat rose in Chireadan's cheeks. "I...well…"

"I did have working ears as a cat, you know," Jaskier said, walking his fingers up Chireadan's chest.

"Ah--that's--there are people around--"

"It's dark," Jaskier said, pressing against Chireadan's bare chest.

"You glow in the dark worse than I do."

Jaskier laughed, a bright peal of amusement, and kissed Chireadan again. "Fine, let's go find my clothes. You can take them off me later."

"I…" Chireadan's cheeks were burning very hot now. "I will," he stammered.

"Right, I...I have no idea where we are from this viewpoint." Jaskier shivered, and Chireadan took his hand.

"This way."

"Right. Ow. Ow, stones. I don't miss having paws, but at least my pads weren't so soft."

"I could carry you? Maybe."

"No, no, I'll survive. I always do."

Gods, his voice was lovely to listen to. Chireadan led him to the stable, fending off some rude comments along the way. Jaskier dressed in his expensive red outfit while a stable girl stared and Chireadan tried to shield him from view.

"Oh, you know what I want, I want a bath! A real one, not just licking myself, it's barbaric really, cats are disgusting. You could join me."

Chireadan barely had time to agree before Jaskier whisked them off to the tavern, purchased a bath and a room, and snagged a bottle of wine and a chunk of bread to pad it. He undressed the moment the tavern maid finished filling the tub and sank into the water. "Are you joining me?" he asked, eyes closed.

"I--well. All right." Chireadan removed his shirt and undid the laces on his pants. This was moving rather faster than he had planned.

Not that he had planned, which was the whole problem, wasn't it?

"You wished I could talk, you said it, and now you're afraid of me?" Jaskier asked.

"No, of course not." Chireadan worked his pants off and slipped into the water, keeping to his own side.

Jaskier watched him. "I remember everything you said. I'm not toying with your affections. I wouldn't do that."

"I'm…" Chireadan swallowed. "I'm no good at one night only. Or one week, or one month. I'll live too long for that."

"My dear," Jaskier purred, gliding through the water toward him, "what makes you think I have designs on you for only one night?"

Chireadan put a hand on his chest. He wanted to touch and grab and let Jaskier have all of him and he could  _ not _ survive being a fling. "Stop, please stop."

Jaskier froze. "Oh. All right." He backed away slowly. "I thought you were pretty clear that you wanted me. I want you. What's wrong, exactly?"

"I just need to know this is real."

"Ah." Jaskier nodded. "Yes, right, well, yes. Yes. It is." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's always real," he muttered.

"That's what's wrong. For me. I don't mean--I don't care what you've done, or how you've--but I need more than--I think I love you. I need to know you want to stay with me."

"I know. I know. Look, I remember now. What I wished for."

"Will you tell me?" Chireadan asked, nervous.

"Yeah, yeah, all right. Let me think how to say it. Er. So. I was trying to work out what pleases me. I'm not getting younger. I think. And I, well, I presented that to Geralt, and he wasn't even decent enough to tell me to my face he--anyhow. The next day he yelled at me because--I know this doesn't sound true, but it is--because of his own problems that I had absolutely nothing to do with. Blamed me for everything _he'd_ done wrong, or right, everything. So I left. And I had to rethink everything. I think I've been incredibly stupid for twenty years. Sorry, all this is probably beside the--but the point is, and as you know, I've been stuck on him for much longer than he deserves."

"And now?"

"And now…" Jaskier sighed and looked at the ceiling. "I suppose I'm not angry with him anymore, but I've had some time to think about what really pleases me now. I don't want to be ignored. I don't want to be treated like I'm an annoyance, because I'm not. I was drunk, but I know what I wished for."

He was silent for a moment, so Chireadan splashed him. "What?"

"Oh, er. You. I didn't know I was. At the time. Though it's not as if I forgot about you. You did save my life and we ruined yours. And I don't forget a face like that."

"What was your wish?"

"I...I just wanted to find someone who would love me the way I loved them. Someone I could be with, someone I would be excited to return to if we spent time apart. Someone who would be good to me. I want to be good to you. I want this, I want you. I want us."

That was a lot. To be the answer to someone's wish. He had been very attracted to Jaskier before, but… He opened his mouth.

"I know I didn't wish for any kind of love spell, I swear. My wish was to  _ find _ someone. I think she cursed me into a problem I needed help with, and dropped me in Ghelibol. I was running around for hours before I found you." He let out a breath. "If after all that, you want to go, I...I understand."

Chireadan licked his lips and tried to think. Jaskier having a lot of feelings about the witcher was old news; he didn't care about that. Being the answer to someone's wish was a lot of pressure, but wasn't that what he'd wanted anyway? And really, he'd already decided before this, if he was honest with himself. "I think if I wanted to leave, you'd still be a cat."

Jaskier's eyes lit up. Gods, they were blue. "Oh, you're right! When I get what I want, she said. So, would I be presuming too much if I carried on?"

"I'm not having sex in a tavern bathtub," was unfortunately the first thing out of Chireadan's mouth, but Jaskier nodded.

"Fair enough, let's wash up before it gets cold," Jaskier said, kissing Chireadan's nose with his pretty pouty lips. "I did get us a bed," he murmured as he slid his hands onto Chireadan's face. The calluses caught a little, but it felt good anyway. "I think I promised you something, though."

"Hmm?" With Jaskier this close and full of promises, Chireadan was rapidly losing focus. The bard nosed at his cheekbone, his breath ghosting across the elf's skin, and then stuck out his tongue and  _ licked _ him. "What--"

"Didn't I promise?"

"I don't think so," Chireadan said. "I might have thought about it."

"I thought about it quite a lot," Jaskier said, and licked him again. "I thought about getting my hands on you, my real hands. Also my lute," he admitted. "Right, washing." He found the soap and they washed themselves, mostly, with a little bit of washing each other. Jaskier's soft linen shirt clung to his wet skin as they went to their room. "Ah, I forgot the cups. Well, we'll just have to share." He popped the bottle and offered it to Chireadan.

He took a deep swallow. The stuff was bearable enough, and the alcohol hit soon, warming his limbs and chest. They shared the wine and bread until it was gone. Chireadan's toes and fingers tingled, his legs humming with the familiar pleasant ache that alcohol always brought.

"Gods, you're beautiful," Jaskier said. "I like looking at you with these eyes much better." He sat up and waved in front of his eyes. "Cat eyes, weird. Don't know how Ger--don't know how witchers stand it."

"You're beautiful," Chireadan retorted, surprised at how his words slurred. He hadn't drunk in so long. Hadn't had a reason, but what a lightweight he'd become. "You're so pretty, you're the only human who's pretty."

"Well."

"You are, your eyes, and your face, and your everything." He wasn't a poet, but Jaskier was grinning.

"You don't like humans?"

"No, they're funny looking. Not you, though. You're the most...lovely man I've ever--" He hiccuped. "Ever met."

"You're rather drunk, aren't you?"

"No," Chireadan tried, his voice unsteady. "I'm fine." He sat up and the world tilted. "Oh no."

Jaskier pushed him back down. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I don't think I meant to drink that much," Chireadan mumbled as he flopped back against the pillow.

"Lightweight," Jaskier said fondly.

"Catmint," Chireadan yawned.

"Mmm," Jaskier hummed, lying down on Chireadan's chest. "That was fun." His warm weight felt like safety, felt like love.

Felt like something he had to cling to, because it wouldn't be long before he was sitting by a grave. Humans didn't live long. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three," Jaskier said cheerfully.

Chireadan slid his arms around Jaskier. "I'm seventy, be honest."

Jaskier scooched up and tucked his head under Chireadan's chin. "Because it's you, and because I'm hoping you'll forget by morning, I'm forty. If anyone else asks, lie."

"Hmm."

"Hmm. What hmm. What? I'm still young. I'm beautiful. I have stamina. What's your problem with my age?"

"No, it's not that." Chireadan held him tighter. "I was just, just thinking about you, about me, about time, about, about getting time with you."

"Oh. Oh. That's sweet. You're sweet. You're always sweet." Jaskier wriggled up and rested his head next to Chireadan, facing him. "I love that about you." He leaned in closer and kissed him.

Chireadan was definitely drunk now, and the kiss was soft, lazy, no expectations, just slow kisses, light and then deeper, and Jaskier's fingers snaked through his hair and tugged it gently.

"I'm going to fall asleep," Chireadan confessed when they paused to catch their breath.

"Sleep then," Jaskier murmured, his thumb stroking the elf's cheekbone. "I'll be right here."

His eyes were so blue. "I love you," Chireadan said helplessly. It fell from his lips without permission. It was true, but it was fast.

But Jaskier ran his thumb down to Chireadan's lips and smiled at him. "I love you too. Now sleep."

"Sing to me," Chireadan mumbled, half-dozing already.

Jaskier smiled and sat up. The last thing Chireadan remembered before drifting away was a hand stroking his hair and the soft humming of a sweet melody.

He woke to the sound of gut-strings being plucked softly, eyes blinking open to see Jaskier, shirtless, quietly playing on the other side of the small room. Not such a bad way to wake. Granted, he had been waking cuddled up to Jaskier for the last few days, but a Jaskier he could kiss on the mouth without feeling extremely gross about the mere thought was certainly an improvement.

"Oh, did I wake you?"

"I'm just listening," Chireadan yawned, his throat sticking to itself. "Ow," he croaked. "Is there water?"

Jaskier pointed at the end table where a cup of water sat. Chireadan drank it gratefully, thinking about his stash of medicines in the cart. "Sorry about last night," he said when his throat stopped aching. "I was intending on sleeping with you, er, but I think I overdid it."

"You'll make it up to me," Jaskier said with a wink.

"I will, but maybe--" Chireadan choked as his stomach turned and bile caught in his throat. "Maybe not right now." He crawled out of bed and pulled on his boots. "I need to go to my cart for a hangover remedy. Would you like some?"

Jaskier set his lute gently into its case. "I'll come with, if you don't mind."

Chireadan nodded and winced as his head throbbed. Jaskier followed him out to the stable, where he dug out some ingredients and mixed up a peppermint and willow bark tea with some extra things to make it work faster and more effectively. He drank half of it and passed the rest to Jaskier.

"You're cute when you're working," Jaskier commented before taking a sip. "Ooh, lovely mint. You all right?" He took Chireadan's hand and squeezed it.

Gods, he was embarrassed. He wanted nothing more than to take a morning walk holding Jaskier's hand, but he still felt ill. "I think I need to lie down."

"Hmm." Jaskier downed the rest of the tea and set the cup back in Chireadan's things. "Right." They returned to the room, and Jaskier brought a loaf of bread to settle Chireadan's stomach. He was up and better in half an hour, so they did end up taking the morning walk along the beach hand in hand. Jaskier had his lute slung over his shoulder. "It was a diversion, so you know," he said as they wandered along the sand.

"What was?"

"The song. It was a distraction. So the elves could get out and find somewhere safer to be. It wasn't about being right. It was about accomplishing what I meant it to, and it did. Made Geralt famous, improved the reputations of witchers, and no one went looking for Filavandrel in Dol Blathanna while he got his people out. I'm not stupid; I respect them. But you can't just write a little song that says 'Everything you've been taught about the elves is a deliberate lie meant to foment discord and keep you easier to control' and hope for the best. I had no reputation then, anyway."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Feel better about fancying me now?"

"Well. Yes." A bit. It was a tolerable explanation.

"Good, then you won't be scared if I write a song for you."

"I...hope not?"

"Lovely." Jaskier slid his hand out of Chireadan's, swung his lute around to the front, and strummed a few chords, humming something. "No," he announced after a minute. "No good. I can't compose anything with you staring at me like that."

"I'm not sta--I'm only walking with you--is that elven?"

"Oh, my girl?" Jaskier ran his fingers over the wood grain on the lute. "She was a gift from a friend."

"That's quite a gift."

"Yes. Well. His subordinate broke mine. On purpose, I might add. She was very rude. Then she kicked me in--"

"I know the song."

"It's true."

"But--wait. Wait. Are you saying that lute is Filavandrel's?"

"Like I said. Gift from a friend. And I  _ did _ earn the right to keep it, you can ask him if you like."

"I'd rather you prove it to me yourself."

"Oh, darling, I will. Often. But not here. I'm delicate."

"No you aren't. I've seen you naked."

"Listen, I've never had sex outside of a bed or a bedroll or a--well, there was a time with the--and then--I like privacy and I don't like sand, is my point."

"Did you really sleep with Filavandrel?"

"Would I lie?"

Chireadan raised an eyebrow.

"To you, Chir, would I lie to you?"

"I...would like to think you wouldn't."

Jaskier pouted. "You can't trust me but you've confessed your love for me?"

Chireadan considered mentioning he'd been drunk, but settled on, "I am not very smart in these matters," which made Jaskier laugh. "I trust you, but I don't know you as well as I'd like to."

"Well, now you know I fucked Filavandrel when he tried to take his lute back. I'm an open book. Ask me anything."

"All right. Why me?"

"Why not you?"

"That's not the question."

Jaskier hit a sour chord. "Fine. Why me?" Chireadan's face burned almost instantly and Jaskier took pity on him. "I suppose we'll find out together." He swung his lute back to his back and pulled Chireadan into his arms.

He tucked his face against Jaskier's neck and closed his eyes.

It had been so long since he'd had someone to hug. His relationships never lasted long. When he had strong feelings for someone, they never reciprocated. Besides romance, he missed his sisters. But here he was, pressed tight against a freely affectionate human who cared for him. "We should get a real cat," Chireadan mumbled.

"I'm better than a cat."

"Mmhm."

"What d'you want a cat for? I'll sit in your lap. You can pet me. I'll lick your face if you want. Only you have to do it back."

"I'll keep you then," Chireadan yawned, pressing a quick kiss to his neck.

"You should. I'm a keeper."

"You are," Chireadan agreed warmly, his hands stroking Jaskier's back through the expensive embroidered fabric. "I'm glad to have you."

The embrace tightened, so Chireadan kept up his gentle caresses even as a few fisherfolk passed them, until he realized Jaskier was trembling, just barely.

"Jaskier?"

"Please don't let go," Jaskier said instantly, his voice cracked and wet.

There was something beautiful in loving a person who didn't pretend, who asked for what he wanted. And that, Chireadan realized, was partly due to his own behavior, because this was the same man who spent twenty years devoted to a man who didn't even seem to know or care. "I'm right here," he said, because this openness was a precious gift and he was bound to honor it as best he could.

Jaskier was crying into his shoulder now, and Chireadan raised one hand to pet his hair. "I'll listen," he said. "If you want to tell me."

"I just, er." Jaskier sniffled. "Thank you. I'll tell you later." He pressed his forehead against Chireadan's neck for a moment, and then pulled away. There was an odd flash in his eyes, but then he wiped away his tears and it was gone. Most likely a reflection from the sun. "Right. What do we do next? Did you want to go back to...where were you living?"

"Ghelibol. No, I don't think so. What about you?"

"I return to the university every now and again to do lectures, but I haven't had a real home since I was a student. Haven't been there in years, though. Might be time for a visit. If you'd come with, of course. Not running out on you already."

"I'd like to come, but sometimes, well, humans are less than welcoming."

"Bah, they'll love you. Or else."

He was probably meant to tell Jaskier he couldn't fight the whole world, but instead he just smiled at him. It felt nice to be cared for. Nice, and unfamiliar. He kissed Jaskier's cheek and looked out at the water. "Then I'll join you. Maybe I'll learn something from them."

"Maybe they'll learn something from you," Jaskier countered.

"Academic exchange?" Chireadan said wryly, slipping his hand into Jaskier's and resuming their walk.

Jaskier puffed up. "And why not?"

Chireadan laughed. Jaskier's relentless optimism--and insistence on beating things into optimistic shape--was, if not contagious, at least fun to soak in. He wasn't sure if Jaskier had strong beliefs about interspecies politics or if he was just defensive of his new partner, but either one was enough right now. He wasn't alone, and that meant very much indeed.

They spent the day on the beach and in the tavern, and at night they skipped the wine and pulled each other's clothes off, taking their time and exploring bodies together, giggling as they learned ticklish spots and turn-offs and turn-ons, until Jaskier got impatient and flipped Chireadan on his back, found the oil, and sank down on him, moving slowly but firmly as Chireadan's hands ran up his thighs and to his hips and back down again, chests heaving, sweat beading, Jaskier still talking,  _ touch me, stroke me, please, please, I'm close, darling, are you, are you? _ and bless him, because when they came they came nearly together, the fluttering of his lashes, breathy, grateful moans, and tight clench of his ass all joining to fling Chireadan over the edge as he thrust his hips up helplessly.

He opened his eyes after a minute to see Jaskier hovering over him, a blissful smile on his face. He slipped off Chireadan with a slight gasp and lowered himself to rest on top. They were both covered in sweat. "We should clean up," Chireadan mumbled, but Jaskier didn't move, so he brought his arms around Jaskier and kissed the top of his head.

Jaskier giggled and stretched, his body hair tickling Chireadan from chest to thighs. "You are fabulous, darling. I do rather adore you."

He was wonderfully warm and soft, and the kind of dangerous that the elf could live with. "Good to know."

"Oh, and earlier, me crying and all, I was simply working out some feelings, good and bad. Nothing more than what I've already told you about, really. I fall in love so easily, but, well, it's better to be truly cared for than to throw one's heart at every pretty person who walks by. But you're an old man, you know all that."

"Not that old," Chireadan protested, but he was smiling all the same.

Jaskier raised his head and gazed into his eyes. "You're so easy to love."

"So are you."

"No, no. You're sweet, you're sincere, you're so very real. Me, I'm fun, and that only lasts until people get tired of me."

It made sense, but it was still horrible. Chireadan touched Jaskier's cheek with his cleaner hand. "I'm sorry they made you feel that way."

Jaskier leaned into the touch, his eyelashes fluttering. "I don't know if I'm what you're looking for, but I do want to make you happy."

It was too easy to sink into those blue eyes and believe every word he said. Chireadan was fine with that. He was stupid in matters of love, but that was better than fearing it. "You do," he murmured, and Jaskier beamed.

They cleaned up and snuggled close. It was a funny thing; Chireadan had always agreed with other elves that humans were unpleasantly hairy, and Jaskier was a prime specimen in that respect, but now he was thinking he'd spoken too soon. He liked it. The softness, the slight tickle, but perhaps most of all the fact that it was attached to Jaskier. Humans weren't so bad, really.

They did age too quickly. Though not as quickly as cats.

He wasn't going to worry about that tonight. Tonight, and for as long as he had him, Chireadan was going to bask in the happiness this relationship could bring them.

"Where are you?" Jaskier whispered, his nose bumping Chireadan's.

"Right here." Chireadan kissed his nose. "I'm right here."


	2. Chapter 2




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